


The Dementor's Kiss

by thedementorskiss



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Creature/Human Rape, Crying, Dark fic, Humiliation, M/M, Rape, Underage Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedementorskiss/pseuds/thedementorskiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy always thought that the Dementor's Kiss was the worst thing a Dementor could do to a wizard. But when Lucius makes a grave mistake, it's his son who is thrust into the hands of Voldemort and the wicked punishment the Dark Lord has in store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dementor's Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically my first story in the Harry Potter fandom, though I've written darkfic in other fandoms before. As you can probably tell by the pairings and warnings and summary, this won't be a happy story. If you're still around, then I hope you enjoy and leave feedback with what you think. Constructive criticism is definitely fine if you have any as again, first story in fandom, blah blah blah. ;)
> 
> Also, apologies for anything that comes off as OOC.

Draco Malfoy always thought that the Dementor's Kiss was the worst thing a Dementor could do to a wizard. He had been threatened with it all of his young life as a punishment, and he had innocently believed it until he was old enough to know better that little boys didn’t get the Kiss just for knocking over their mother’s prized vase. 

The fear Draco held for Dementors as a child diminished as he attended Hogwarts with the anticipation of learning how to cast an efficient Patronus to protect himself from his childhood nightmares; little did he know back then that all it would take to reawaken those nightmares would be a slip up on his father’s part during a raid that had angered the Dark Lord considerably. Now he was laying on his back on the enormous dinner table in the Malfoy Manor dining room, naked as the day he was born, tears slowly slipping down his cheeks as the Dark Lord sneered down at him.

“Precious little Draco, don’t cry. You know more than anyone that it’s sometimes necessary to send a message when a mistake is made. If I remember correctly, it was you who set little Gregory Goyle’s bed aflame in school when he tried to pass off one of your assignments as his. Your father had been very proud of you when he recounted the event. How proud are you now, Lucius?” 

Draco turned his head to catch the eye of his father, but Lucius had his eyes cast down, ashamed and afraid and humiliated. Narcissa stood by his side, face cold and still in a way Draco recognized from seeing many times during her arguments with his father. Bellatrix was on the other side of her sister, wild hair masking the humiliation that most likely had set in on her face as well. It was her mistake that Lucius had taken the fall for, and it was his son who was now being punished. 

“I asked you a question, Lucius.” The Dark Lord hissed, causing Draco to begin to shake, tears continuing to fall as he succumbed to his overwhelming fear and vulnerability. 

“I’m not v-very proud, my Lord.” Draco heard his father whisper, and then he heard Voldemort laugh. 

“Of course you aren’t, dear Lucius. Your mistake will cost your son greatly. Now, let’s get on with his punishment, and then you can think about your actions and their consequences for the future.”

Voldemort turned back towards the table, a curious look on his face as he approached Draco’s body. A cold finger ran it’s way down Draco’s chest, stopping right before it reached the young Malfoy’s disgustingly less-than-interested cock. Draco cried out as he felt his body spelled frozen, his legs bent and spread painfully wide on the normally pristine table that he had eaten off of since he was just a boy. 

“This is going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt your father, dear boy.” Voldemort sighed, as if he had any semblance of care as to whether or not the young Malfoy child was in pain. “But let this be a learning experience for you, if nothing else.” 

With that, Voldemort flicked his wand and the doors to the dining room opened, and suddenly everything went _cold_.

The first thing Draco registered after the doors opened to reveal the monster behind them was his mother’s soft cry. He hadn’t heard his mother cry like that since he was three years old and she had sat him down to explain that the little brother he was expecting had to go back to heaven. He hadn’t understood the gravity of her show of vulnerability then, but he did now. If that hadn’t already shaken him to his core, it would have been his Aunt Bella’s whispered ‘ _No_ ’ that did him in. 

The coldness got closer and closer and Draco couldn’t move, couldn’t twist his head to see what was making his normally composed family break down in the presence of their Lord. Draco didn’t have to see the intruder to know what it was, though; he had felt this cold many times during his painful visits to see his father in Azkaban. It was a Dementor.

“Please my Lord, please, he’s just a boy!” He heard his father beg, all sense of regality long gone, as if he were a dog at Voldemort’s shoe. “Please, take me instead, punish me instead, don’t do this to my boy, he’s just a child, he just turned fifteen my lord, he’s innocent, _please_.”

The Dementor was in front of him now, it’s billowing robes parted to show Draco once and for all what was making his father pray for mercy. He had heard about the rare rapes that occurred in Azkaban when the Ministry Officials weren’t looking, the most horrifying story coming straight from his Aunt Bella’s mouth as she remembered seeing the prisoner across from her endure such a punishment. Never in a million years would Draco imagine that it would be his body that lay surrender to this creature of death, it’s decaying cock already brushing up against his thighs. 

Strangely enough, the tears stopped the moment he was penetrated. He felt everything. The coldness was all around him, drowning him, overwhelming him. Every thrust into his previously-virgin hole freezing him from the inside out. 

It was clammy, and wet, and the claustrophobic way the creature hovered over his hairless body was maddening. There was pain, but Draco couldn't feel much. He felt disconnected, as if this were happening to another person, as if his parents weren’t on their knees begging for forgiveness, as if his Aunt Bella’s eyes weren't glazed over with a look that spoke of triggering recognition, as if Lord Voldemort himself weren’t laughing madly in the corner of the room like this was all a great joke. 

Draco wasn’t sure how long the Dementor stayed hovering above him, cock thrusting in and out, making him feel dirty and slimy and broken. Everything started to slow down; the sounds of his mother’s cries, the give and take of the decaying flesh inside of him, the maniacal laughter haunting his ears. There was a gush of something wet inside him and the Dementor went still, pulling out of his wrecked body with a revolting ‘ _pop_ ’ before leaving the room just as silently as it came, taking the cold and what was left of Draco’s innocence with it. 

The laughter had stopped, but his mother’s tears continued, the only noise in the room other than the sickening squelch as the Dementor’s cum escaped his body. Draco felt the spell holding his body in place release and his legs caved in, curled up against his chest as he covered himself, the reality of what had just happened finally catching up to him. 

He had been raped at the hands of the Dark Lord. He had been raped by a Dementor. 

Draco felt his body being levitated out of the dining room, but he kept his eyes shut, body quaking with the aftermath of its violation. He was horrified to feel his own cock somehow hard against his navel, begging for attention even as his stomach churned and he fought back the urge to vomit. He refused to open his eyes even as a door opened and he was placed atop a bed covered in silk, the lingering smell of his mother’s perfume on the pillowcase. He was in his parent's bed. 

The door closed and his naked body was covered, protected from the monsters Draco now knew to exist out in the world. Sure, he had known they were there before but now...now, Voldemort had taken something from him that he’d never get back. He was damaged. He was dirt.

Draco didn’t open his eyes until what felt like hours later. There was someone sitting on the bed next to him, gentle fingers carding through his greasy, limp hair. His mother.

“My baby,” he heard her whisper. “My sweet, sweet boy.”

As night fell across the Manor grounds, Draco shook in his mother’s arms.


End file.
